


Alive

by joeyrz



Category: Xena: Warrior Princess
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2000-09-27
Updated: 2000-09-27
Packaged: 2017-10-17 06:57:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,205
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/174124
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/joeyrz/pseuds/joeyrz
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Answer to Joxerotica's Joey's 5-P Challenge.<br/>Person: strife; Place: a rainbow - literally; Piece of clothing: kilt; Position: um... face to face. what the hell; Prop: can rain be a prop?<br/>For: Crystal</p>
            </blockquote>





	Alive

**Author's Note:**

> Yes, Strife did die. No, X:WP's second half of the 4th season and the 5th season *didn't* happen.

I knew it was dangerous. How could I not? She was crazy. But Ares told me to do something. And I tried, I swear.

“Um, ya know, no hard feelings, OK? I mean, ya... ya got the chops and that’s a fact. If it’s... if there’s one thing that us gods of aggression appreciate, it’s a good show of strong, brute force. Ya know-- no mercy. So, uh-- let me be the first -- to welcome ya to the club.”

I should have known. Her eyes told me. But I didn't back down. I was gonna do what Unc told me, even if it killed me.

“But I wouldn’t wanna be in a club-- that’d have me for a member.”

And it did. That dagger… the hind's blood. It really worked. I had my doubts about it. I felt so cold then… I've never been able to get warm since. Celesta was there before Callisto even pulled the dagger from me. Hades got there a second later and sent Celesta away. I wasn't much of a god, I know. But I was a god. And if nothing else, I deserved to be received by Hades himself.

At the time I wasn't as calm as I am now. I hadn't even realized what had happened, until I turned. I saw myself… my body on the floor of Ares' temple. The blood no longer flowing from in between my fingers, where I clutched at the wound.

I saw Ares coming towards me -- my body.

“Oh, what have you done?” he asked Callisto. But it was Jerkules little friend that answered.

“He’s dead!”

“Dead?! He can’t be dead! He’s a god!”

I saw my killer, no remorse, no guilt, no - humanity - showing in her faced.

“Well, at least we know the stuff really works-- huh?”

Not even Ares. Ares never killed without remorse. But no one knows that, except me. Because I've always been -- I always was there. Since I was a kid, and he came home from battles, bloody and battered. And guilty, so guilty. Knowing he had no choice but take lives -- innocent lives -- to balance out the world. And knowing that, besides me, no one else could know he didn't enjoy it.

“Callisto.”

That spawn called my killer and they left. Leaving Ares to mourn me as best he could.

“He wasn’t so bad. He tried hard. He-- he was just no good at his job. You didn’t have to do this!”

I don't resent that. He didn't know any better. He never knew how to express how he really felt. Not in words. But he did seek revenge. And that was more than I could ask.

Rain is drizzling here, a light mist. Just to refresh the trees and grass. It never rained here before. But I asked Uncle Hades to let it rain here, in my little corner, from time to time.

He agreed, just because Persephone told him that after the rain comes rainbows, and that the souls in the Elysian Fields might like it, might brighten their already perfect existence. I wouldn't know. I don't visit there much. I don't want fake imitations of life.

I've been here a while now. Maybe years, centuries. Or maybe just hours. Not even dead gods can keep track of time in the Underworld. And Uncle Hades never tells.

The thing is, after all this time, I'm getting a second chance -- at life. I don't know why. I don't think Uncle Hades knows all that much about it either. All I know, is that the Fates found that my string haven't been cut completely. I small thread had been separated and had remained in the tapestry. Uncle Hades figures that's why I still gained energy from the living world.

Today I regain my life.

So I think about my death.

And wonder what I'm going back to.

~*~*~*~*~

I'm -- home.

The word feels so weird in mouth. Home.

But I am, I am home. In my room in Uncle Ares' temple.

I sit in my bed looking around. The black marble floor shines, and the blood red drapes look as new as when I put them up. By that alone, you would think the room is cleaned repeatedly. But the polished oak table, tell another tale. I get up and walk over to it. On it, the half eaten breakfast from the day I died still sits there, still fresh. The sword from a battle that night before still gleams and the blood on it is still red. The scroll I was reading is there. I turn from the table and walk to the bed. It's not made, the pillow on the floor… where I left it.

I have been gone five years. And everything's the same.

~*~*~*~*~

The next morning I find Cupid at the breakfast table. It doesn't surprise me. He's my best friend after all. Nobody believes that our friendship is just that - friendship. Not that we haven't had sex. He introduced me to the art, when no other goddess wanted me. But that was it. Cupid is just my best friend. Not that we don't love each other, we do; but not like *that*.

I watch him get up and notice he's still wearing that "kilt" over his leather pants. I told him once, he should wear them in plaid colors so he'd pass as a god from the Brit isles.

"I heard a rumor that you were back among the living."

"Ya well, goes to show that even da' Fates make mistakes."

"Don't let them hear you say that."

"What they gonna do? Kill me? Been there, done that."

Cupid laughed and gathered me up in a hug. I'd almost forgotten how good it felt to be around him, to feel his love.

"It's good to have you back, bro."

"It feels rad to be back."

I sit down at the table, while Cupid tells me that Ares had to go early, some skirmish he didn't condone broke out and he had to go stop it. We start eating some of the sweet cakes Unc left for us, when Cupid reminds me of something I hadn't thought of.

"I saw Joxer the other day," he said it, trying to make it sound like an offhand comment and failing miserably. I don't say anything, I just freeze and keep looking at my plate. I'm aware that he's shifting uncomfortably, but I don't say anything. I want to know what he's going to say.

"He's okay. Still traveling with Xena and Gabrielle from time to time, but mostly he just wanders around. Not much to do with his free time this last few years… I keep an eye out for him. Dad does too. He knows what Joxer means to you."

“What I meant to him five years ago, might not be what I mean to him know. Does he even know I was dead?”

“He does. But, he didn’t, not for like two months. He was traveling with Xena when they ran into Herc and Iolaus. He had to stand the jeers and comments while processing the fact that you didn’t abandon him, that you died.”

I know all this. I knew it first hand. I heard every thought Joxer gave me. Every angry word, every curse, every sob. He’s mad; mad that I left him.

“You should go see him.”

Cupid’s suggestion jars me. Should I? I look up at Cupe’s face, and I don’t know how, but I know that it hurts him seeing us apart. Maybe it’s because he’s a love god or maybe because he’s my best friend. But it makes up my mind.

I’m gonna see Joxer again.

~*~*~*~*~

It takes me awhile to locate him. I’m still getting reacquainted with my powers and it’s been so long since I last saw him.

I track him down to an off track river. It’s beauty leaves me sorta breathless. The sky is a perfect blue, with very few white cottony clouds far away. The sun is shinning warmly, it’s light reflecting on the water’s blue green surface. The trees seem older than me, wide and tall. The spring is just starting, so the new leaves are coming in, and the flowers are stating to bloom.

He’s sitting by the water’s edge. He looks so beautiful there. The waterfall’s droplets make like rain here, and there a rainbow that looks like it’s falling on him. Every memory of us together crashes down upon me, and my heart clenches in a bittersweet hurt. I can’t stand to be here, so close yet so far from him, so I gather up my courage and walk up to him.

I stand behind him and softly call out his name. I remember when I used to pounce on him from behind, giggling madly and tickling him without remorse. Not caring if I scared him or alerted anyone else of my presence. But I guess five years in Hades’ realm have changed me a bit. I don’t want to scare him anymore than I know he will be.

He turns around wildly, so he’s on his knees, his feet in the water. He whispers my name reverently, in awe, in disbelief, and more than a fair share of fear. I nod, but it seems that I *have* changed, because he tilts his head to the side, taking me in, and shaking his head in denial.

“No, nonono! You look like Strife, but you’re not him. Strife is... dead...” I close my eyes as I hear him choke in that last word, like it still hurts him. And it’s a bittersweet joy to know that. To know that he still loves me enough to hurt over my death, but much to hard to know that he still hurts.

“It’s me, Jox,” I say, calling him by the nickname I gave him, hoping this will be enough to convince him.

“It’s not possible. You’re dead! Wait. Does that mean... that I’m dead too?”

“No! Ya’re alive, I’m alive.”

“How can you be alive? You’ve been dead for five years!”

“Da’ Fates made a mistake. I wasn’t supposed to die. I don’t know why. No one knows, they won’t tell. Not ‘till the ‘time is right’ or some bullshit like that.”

“strife?” he whispered. And it broke my heart. So much hope, so much despair.

I could find no words to assure him of my reality so I pull him gently towards me, and claim his mouth in a soft kiss, much like the ones we shared early in the morning, before either of us was really awake.

And I guess it was the right thing to do, because he whimpers into my mouth, then crushes me into a hug, hiding his face and tears in my neck. I hold him just as tightly and I slowly sink onto the grass, so I’m sitting while he winds his legs around me, giving me a full body hug.

He starts to whisper about how much he loves me, how he missed me and how sorry he was for doubting me, before he knew I was dead.

I pull his face up, so we’re looking into each others eyes, and I shush him with a soft butterfly kiss to his lips.

He sobs again into my mouth, and then responds to my gentle kisses. Passion rises in both of us, but we keep it gentle, easy, calm and reverent...

In another time, I would have just used my powers to divest us, but not today. Today this feels like a Solstice present I should savor. I pull on the clasps of his armor, my memory guiding me through it. His fingers are also busy undoing the hidden ties of my clothing. A short while later, his shirt and pants are serving as a blanket underneath us, the leather suit that I wear not being really comfortable to lie on, specially with pins.

He’s underneath me, and we’re still kissing softly, but as I shift I notice that he’s just as hard as I am. I start to rock slightly on him, pushing our cocks together. My hisses of pleasure complement his moans and I feel like I’m falling down a spiral of desire, pleasure and love. He come within seconds of each other, and my ears are ringing, my head is pounding and I feel like I’m whole again. As if a part that was missing was returned to me. And as I look down on Joxer’s face, his hair sticking to his forehead with sweat, mouth open as he drags in mouthfuls of air, I realize that that’s it. That’s why I wasn’t really dead. Why the whole of my thread wasn’t cut.

Because Joxer holds my heart. It’s his forever, I’m bound to him that way.

It may sound corny if I say it out loud, but it’s the truth.

And giggle a little, as I think, that as much as that was for us, it was also us paying our gratitude to the Fates for giving ‘us’ another chance. For letting us be together again. For my life and his. For our love.

****  
Not the end, a new beginning.

**Author's Note:**

> Think of a thread, a thick thread, like the ones the Fates use. They're made of tiny little strings. You can separate those strings, and if you cut all but one string, then the thread isn't really cut. Think of each string of a thread like a different part of us: our hearts, our souls, our personalities, our memories....


End file.
